


Tell Me What's Right

by Whreflections



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drunk Cas, First Time, M/M, Matchmaking, One Shot, Post Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-20
Updated: 2012-09-20
Packaged: 2017-11-14 16:54:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/517464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whreflections/pseuds/Whreflections
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Really, wanting someone definitely isn't the first step. It's more of its own brand of insanity, especially when you have no idea where to start.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell Me What's Right

**Author's Note:**

> This came to life because I had the urge to write first time fic. I'd been writing Dean/Cas for awhile at that point, but still had yet to start at the beginning, lol

The apocalypse ended in January. The last battle was cold, and the snow in the Montana field where they finished was mostly stained red by the end. Michael and Dean caged Lucifer in an old well, and for a few minutes they all stood in stunned silence, weighed down by the aftermath. After almost two years of fighting it was hard to believe it was finally done. Everyone went their separate ways, the hunters dispersing to the winds as they always did, the angels returning to service in heaven.   
  
All but one, of course. Castiel elected to stay with the brothers, and after everything he had done in the true service of Heaven, it was his due to do as he pleased. They rested for close to a month at Bobby’s basking in a world free of major disasters and constant warfare. As good as it had felt, though, they couldn’t be still for long. Particularly Dean. When he started looking more and more longingly at the Impala, Sam had booted up the computer and started searching obits. Within days they were on their way to California. Hunting was life as usual for the boys, and they had slipped right back into it. Their relationship was almost more sound than ever, and they were both happy again. All things considered, Castiel should’ve been happy too.   
  
But he wasn’t. It was own fault, really. At least, it was the way he saw it. His brothers and sisters had warned him, told him he was getting too close but he didn’t listen. He’d never been this close to humanity before, and he didn’t realize how very easy it was not just to come to love them, but to fall in love with them. He’d never known before, but he certainly did now.   
  
His eyes followed Dean almost without fail, only flickering away when he felt like Dean surely had to be catching on. That was harder sometimes than others, particularly when Dean stepped out of the shower and wandered into the hotel room to talk to Sam, thin white towel hanging low on his hips. That, that was another thing Castiel had never felt until now. Desire.   
  
If it had just been the desire, it would’ve been frustrating. As it was, he was desperately in love with a man he was certain could never return his feelings. That? That was really laughable. Stupid, and he knew it. But as he’d so recently learned, logic apparently played no role in human emotion. Not in the slightest.   
  
It was all made even worse by the fact that they seemed to make progress. Well, in his eyes at least. Just the day before they’d been walking when Dean had grabbed his wrist, his other hand darting out to pull a fallen leaf from his trenchcoat. He’d held on just a little longer than necessary, and Castiel had almost been certain he’d be able to feel his pulse increase under the skin. He’d finally let go suddenly, looked away, and though they’d kept talking Dean had seemed different, more absent.   
  
And today…today, he had gone out.   
  
Castiel had followed him, at first telling himself he wanted to make sure Dean was safe. It was a lie, and even he knew it. He needed to know. Sure enough, he’d seen him leaving the bar with a beautiful redhead, bending her back over the hood of the Impala to kiss her before they got in, his hand sliding up her shirt. Seeing him touching her like that…he had hardly been able to bear it.   
  
So he had come ‘home’ to their latest motel, and for a few minutes he had sat on the bed and watched TV while Sam drank. Both of them had their problems with alcohol these days, though they both seemed to be getting better. Slowly. Sam hadn’t hit the depths he had when he’d lost Dean to hell, and Dean seemed to be easing back off the dependency he’d had for the past year. The longer they spent together the more marked the improvement, Castiel could tell. Still, they weren’t all the way back to their ‘normal’ selves yet. At least, from what they said(or, more often, didn’t say)to each other about it.   
  
When they wanted to forget, though, they usually tried to do it while the other one was out so there was no one to worry. Except Cas, of course. But tonight…tonight he wasn’t feeling so good himself, and before long he turned off the TV, crossed the room to sit on Sam’s bed with him.   
  
Sam blinked at him, eyebrows raised. “Everything ok, Cas?”   
  
“Yes. Well…” He looked down at the sheets, smoothed a hand across the surface. “No. No, Sam, not really.”   
  
Sam pushed himself up higher on the bed, shut his computer that had been sitting open on the pillow beside him and shoved it away. “What’s wrong? The other angels, they haven’t-“  
  
“No, no, it’s nothing like that.” He looked up, cocked his head to the side. At least, it would be worth a try. Something new, and it didn’t really matter at this point. He’d chosen to be sort of human, for the time being. “Can I…try some of that?”   
  
Sam’s eyes went wide, the hand that held the bottle tilting in a questioning gesture. “This? You wanna… Seriously?”   
  
“Can I?”   
  
He shrugged, held the bottle out. “Sure, go ahead.” Cas took the bottle, raised it hesitantly to his lips. “Wait, hold on.” Sam’s hand shot out, catching it just before he tilted it. “Small, ok? Like, tiny sips. This stuff’s pretty hard, man.”   
  
He did as Sam said, tilting the bottle just enough to down a little of the amber liquid. He could feel the burn of it in his throat, sliding down past his lungs and he coughed, his eyes watering a little at the unfamiliar sensation.   
  
Sam took the bottle, patted him gently on the shoulder. “It’s ok. It’s ok. That happens the first time.” There was warm sympathy in his eyes, and Cas couldn’t help but wonder how this man could ever see himself as wholly evil.   
  
“I…thank you, Sam.” He coughed again, still felt his throat almost scorched in the aftermath.   
  
“Anytime.” His brow knit together in confusion, and he studied his hands for a few minutes, considering. Castiel didn’t know him anywhere near as well as Dean, but he was learning that Sam usually made faces for a few seconds at least before he said anything important. “Hey ah, Cas? You wanna talk? Tell me what’s going on that makes you want to do this?”   
  
He licked his lips, tasted a hint of alcohol. He could still see Dean with that girl on the hood of the car, further than that, could see him with that one three weeks ago in Jacksonville. They’d practically walked in on that, come into the hotel room when he’d had her in bed, sleeping against his chest. Cas shook his head once. “I don’t know.” He swallowed, loosened his tie because it seemed the right thing to do. “Can I have more?”   
  
Sam handed the bottle back, studying him. “Sure. Much as you want.”   
  
‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’   
  
Several drinks later, Sam questioned him again. That time, he didn’t exactly have the will to refuse. He’d thought drinking would make him forget what he’d seen, but the opposite seemed to be true. The more sips of the liquor he took, the more he thought about Dean. It was maddening.   
  
“Dean’s out. With a girl he picked up at a bar.”   
  
Sam nodded, unphased. “Yeah, I figured. Is it something about Dean?” Castiel hesitated, uncertain how to proceed, but Sam picked up on his silence. “Dean hooking up? Is that part of it?”   
  
When he put it like that…well, to Sam, it had to sound crazy. He nodded, once.   
  
“I mean, Cas I know it’s gotta be against your morals but-“  
  
“It’s not that. Really it’s not.” He reached for the bottle, took a sip much larger than the ones he’d started with an hour or so ago. “I…seeing him with her…” He shook his head, handed the bottle back to Sam without looking up. “It shouldn’t hurt. I’ve never…never anything like this.” He realized, dimly, that the words didn’t exactly make sense but when he looked up at Sam, he was smiling.   
  
“You’re jealous.”   
  
 _Yes_. He’d known the name for it for awhile now, but  _saying_ it, to Dean’s brother of all people…that was another matter. “But he could…he would never accept that. Not from me. Not from…from this.” He gestured at himself, misery settling heavier around his shoulders. He couldn’t have been further from Dean’s type, and he was painfully aware of that. When he’d skimmed over Dean’s past to get ready to take this assignment, he’d seen a hurried encounter with one man in a dark ally, in those years Sam was at Stanford. It was quick and rough and something Dean had never showed any interest in doing again. Still, it didn’t mean he wouldn’t have been willing to try, if he thought it would work. But as it was he knew a little, knew enough, but nowhere near enough to start trying to seduce anyone. “I mean, I know he…once, but not…not like me.”   
  
Sam shook his head, laughing. “You lost me a little there, Cas. Here’s the thing, though…” He sat forward, leaned on his elbows as he faced the angel. “I swear, I know my brother. He doesn’t…he doesn’t let people get close to him, not ever, not unless they mean something to him. Usually, it’s just me. But you…” He let out a hard breath, and for a minute Castiel was almost sure that  _he_ was jealous. Still, there was warmth in his eyes that looked genuine, free of anger. “He lets you get as close as you want. More than that, he approaches you sometimes. And the way he looks at you, even if you can’t see it…I’ve been noticing it for awhile now. I’ve just been waiting for him to talk to me about it. Which,“ He stopped, took a drink. “He hasn’t. Yet, at least.”   
  
Dean, interested? In him? It sounded far too good to actually be true. Far more likely, Sam didn’t want to tell him the truth. And even if it  _was_ true… Castiel swallowed, felt his cheeks burn a little before he spoke. “Zachariah, he knew. About my…about my feelings. He said that he would’ve offered me to Dean, before, to see if he was interested, but that Dean…” It hurt still, remembering it. “Dean preferred…experience.” Saying it he could feel his cheeks flush further, took another drink and used the burn to chase away the taste of the words.   
  
“Cas.” Sam’s voice was far too understanding, and at first he couldn’t meet his eyes. “Cas.” He looked up, faced Sam. Sam had moved in just a little closer, his dark eyes burning with something between fury and compassion. “Zachariah, he’s a dick, you know. You shouldn’t listen to him.”   
  
“But I know it’s true, I know Dean-“  
  
“Yeah, but who doesn’t, sometimes? Dean’s just…he’s been around a lot and…” Sam winced, clearly regretting his choice of words. “Look, forget about that. My point was that just because he’s enjoyed sleeping with girls who know what they’re doing, doesn’t mean that has any bearing on who he’d want in a relationship. Sex and love, sometimes they’re two totally different things, Cas.” His confusion must have broadcast clearly in the way he cocked his head then, because Sam smirked and shook his head. “Ok, not  _totally_  different. But separate, in some ways. With love, you have both. Sex…sometimes sex is just sex. And it doesn’t mean anything, and the rules for  _that_ , they’re totally different than what you’d want in a relationship with someone you actually care about.”   
  
Cas nodded, shifted closer. He felt sluggish, warm, a dull buzzing heat radiating from the alcohol in his veins. It was a fairly pleasant feeling, really, and he couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to feel Dean’s touch like this, an even more desired burn on already heated skin. “I wouldn’t…I wouldn’t want to disappoint him.”   
  
“You won’t.” Sam’s voice was earnest, close. “Listen, if you want I can talk to Dean, tell him-“  
  
“No. Don’t, I-“  
  
“No, I didn’t mean tell him  _that,_  just that…just that it’s ok for him to make a move. Hell, I told you, I know he wants to. I think he’s just afraid.”   
  
Cas blinked, turned his head to meet Sam’s eyes again. “Afraid?”   
  
“Yeah. I mean with what you are…I think he thinks he can’t have you. Even if it’s what he wants.”   
  
If that were really Dean’s only objection, things would work out fine. Castiel’s Father knew his heart like no other, and if He had allowed him to stay behind, He had to have been giving the angel’s feelings His blessing. “He can. I can.”   
  
“Then let me tell him that. Let him tell him you want this, and he’ll-“  
  
“No, please, Sam. Please.” He reached a hand up, caught Sam’s cheek. “Promise. Don’t tell him.”   
  
Sam sighed, reached up to catch his wrist and pull his hand gently away. “I won’t tell him. But I won’t lie to him either, Cas. I’m not lying to him ever again.” His words were strong with conviction there, firm. “If he asks, I’ll tell him. But not unless he asks.”   
  
“Thank you.” He murmured the words low in his throat, felt around until he grasped the cool neck of the bottle and tilted it all the way up to get the last bit out. Somewhere at the back of his mind he was vaguely surprised they’d gone through it all, but the thought was fuzzy, unfocused. He couldn’t help but wonder how late it was, how late Dean might be back. That…that was nothing he wanted to dwell on. An image sprang unbidden to his mind: the girl from the bar wrapped around Dean in a hotel bed, hands sliding over his chest, drawing a low groan from his lips. He’d heard Dean make that noise once, in the shower, and at the time it had done things to him he’d never experienced. He’d  _wanted_ , more acutely than he’d ever imagined, and for hours the thought of what it would sound like to hear him really moan unrestrained had circled around his head.   
  
Which brought him back around to the fact that even if he had the chance to try to coax that sound from his throat, he wouldn’t even really know how. He sighed, frustrated. “Sam?”   
  
“Yeah?”   
  
“Can I kiss you?”   
  
Sam laughed once, short, before realizing it was an actual question. “I…Cas, I told you, it doesn’t matter, he-“ Cas locked his gaze with Sam’s, hoped that some of his desperation showed through. Sam shifted, looked away. “I’m sorry. If not for Dean I’d help you if it’s what you really wanted, I honestly would, but I can’t. I’m sorry, Cas.”   
  
“Why?”   
  
“Cause he’s my brother. You’re…his even if you’re not technically his yet. He wants you to be, and that’s enough. It’s kind of a code of ethics. If it’s just a hot girl in a bar, we can both go after her but the minute one of us actually has feelings for somebody, it’s hands off. Understand?”   
  
It shouldn’t have mattered, considering he was likely in bed with a stranger at the moment, but hearing Sam imply that Dean had feelings for him left his chest warm, aching. He nodded, pulled himself up to slump easily onto the bed beside Sam. He felt boneless, weary. “Yes. I understand.”   
  
“You don’t need to be worrying about it anyway though. I told you, just make a move. The minute you do, he’ll pick up from there. I promise.”   
  
He mumbled something in response, probably. He wasn’t exactly sure. Now that he’d moved he was almost fully lying down, and he was warm and hazy and the last thing he remembered was leaning his head against Sam’s shoulder.   
  
‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’   
  
It was around 10 in the morning when Dean got back, and he slid in the door almost without a sound, turning with the door as he opened it to shut it carefully. When he actually faced the bed, he froze.   
  
It wasn’t just that they were in the same bed, really, cause that he could’ve written off as not that weird. Cas had personal boundary issues like crazy, and he wouldn’t have been at all surprised that he had decided to lay down by Sam. But this? He was nuzzled up against him, curled into his side like a freaking puppy with one hand closing around the sleeve of Sam’s shirt.   
  
Anyone else would’ve said it was adorable, probably. At the moment, he just felt sick. He crossed the room, slammed his keys down on the bedside table as hard as he could before flicking on the lights. Sam jumped, jerking awake and Cas groaned, curled tighter.   
  
Dean’s eyebrows rose as he took in the empty of bottle of Jack Daniel’s by the bed. “Huh. Looks like you guys had fun last night.”   
  
Sam’s eyes came open fully then and he sat up, shaking his head. “Dean, no, I swear, it’s not like that.” His eyes were so damn wide, horrified and fearful and Dean knew his brother well enough to see that that wasn’t his ‘denial’ face. Whatever he’d thought had happened, it hadn’t. Still, seeing Cas curling into him like that, like he trusted Sam to protect him…that still hurt, more than a little.   
  
Dean nodded, exchanged a glance that let Sam know he believed him. “Yeah, ok. He ok?”   
  
“Ah…” He dragged it out, smoothed an edge on the blanket while he thought. “He had a little too much to drink, I think. Or a lot too much. I don’t really know what his tolerance level was to begin with so…”  
  
“So you thought it was a good idea to keep pumping him full of alcohol? Jesus, Sam.” The words came out terse, worried, and he reached down to lay his hand on Cas’ shoulder, rubbed gently with his thumb. “Hanging in there, Cas?”   
  
He groaned, shook his head once and Dean’s eyes snapped up to glare at his brother.   
  
Sam pushed back farther against the headboard, fully disengaged from Castiel’s grip. “He was throwing up, earlier. I think that’s passed now though. He just needs some rest.”   
  
“Go get him some water. And crackers, case he wants ‘em later.” He watched Sam until he got up then walked around the bed, sliding purposefully into his place. He brought the blanket up just a little higher around the angel’s shoulders, let his hand linger there just a second longer than it had to.   
  
“There’s a Wal-Mart down the road, right?”   
  
“Yeah.” He answered without looking up, his attention focused on the angel at his side.   
  
“Dean, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for him to get this bad. He just said he needed a drink and I gave it to him and we started talking and I forgot to watch how much he was drinking. I’m sorry.”   
  
“It’s ok, Sammy.” He let his eyes flicker up, catch the despondent look Sam was giving him. “It’s ok.”   
  
Once Sam was gone he moved just a little closer, and he couldn’t help but be more pleased than he should’ve been when Cas gripped the front of his shirt and curled into his chest.   
  
‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’   
  
They were working on the car when Dean brought it up. Well, more accurately, he was leaning up against her drinking beer and listening to the radio while Dean worked underneath the car.   
  
“Alright, Sam. I’ve been waiting for you to tell me, but I guess you’re not going to.” There was a pause, a muffled clank as he shifted tools. “Why the  _hell_ was Cas wanting to get drunk the other night?”   
  
I had been three days since, and even though they’d all been in the car together for much of it, he’d still been expected Dean to approach him about it way before now. Honestly, he was glad he was asking because whatever Cas thought, this needed to be out in the open. He was sick and tired of watching them skate around it, stepping way too close to each other in public and staring at each other with the intensity usually reserved for laser beams.   
  
“He told me not to tell you.” He felt obligated to say that first, at least. He heard Dean stop moving. “But I told him that if you asked, I’d tell you.”   
  
A pause, then Dean rolled out from under the car, stood up to take his own beer in hand and lean against the car beside Sam, half sitting on the hood. “Well, I asked. Tell me.”   
  
He turned the bottle in his hand, tried to think exactly where to start. “He saw you picking some girl up in a bar.”   
  
Dean nodded, took a drink. “Yeah. Carla. Look, if he’s gonna start getting pissy just cause I get laid then-“  
  
“No, Dean, that’s not it.” He took a deep breath, got it out quick. “He’s jealous.”   
  
Dean froze, and Sam could see a split second of vulnerability in his eyes before he iced over it, grinning. “Well then he should come out more. He’s a good lookin’ guy, I’m sure me and you could point some girls in the right direction, huh?”   
  
“Not of you, Dean. He was jealous of  _her_.” He pushed off the car, moved around to face Dean before he could start protesting. “I’ve  _seen_ the way you look at him, so don’t think I haven’t. There’s something there, and you know it, but you’re not doing anything about it and it’s driving him crazy. He doesn’t know you like I do, and besides, people can be a little blind when it means too much. He can’t see that you want this, and he thinks you don’t. He thinks he’s got no chance at all, actually.”   
  
Dean coughed, looked down, one hand toying with the knife in his pocket in a nervous tick Sam recognized.   
  
“Dean, it’s ok.”   
  
“Jesus, Sam, I don’t need you to-“  
  
“Stop, alright? I think…Dean, I’m happy. Really.” That got Dean to look at him. His eyes were pale green for the moment, full of open curiosity and just a little hope. “You don’t think I want you to be happy? You deserve this, especially after everything we’ve been through.” There was just the one thing that worried him, but it wasn’t anything he even deserved to ask. Not after leaving Dean for Stanford, and definitely not after the things he’d done in the past couple years. Still, he knew Dean would catch something under the surface. He always did. They could never hide anything from each other.   
  
“Then what is it, Sam? Hm? Does it bother you that he’s-“  
  
“No.”   
  
“Funny that you didn’t even let me finish, makes me think-“  
  
“Dean,  _no_ , alright? I don’t care that’s he’s an angel; I don’t care that it’s a he. I don’t care. I just…” He backed up a little, looked over at the stormclouds gathering in the east and the back down at the tattered motel sign. There was an ‘e’ missing on the neon. “We’re gonna stay together, right? I’d understand if you wanted-“  
  
“You really think I’m gonna settle down?” He laughed, warm and familiar. “C’mon, Sam, I can’t stay in one place more than a month much less any longer. Besides,” He kicked at his boot, brought Sam’s eyes back to his. “Think I remember you sayin’ you were gonna keep hunting no matter what. That kinda rules settlin’ down out anyway.”   
  
He swallowed hard, smiled at the flood of warmth that spread through his chest. Nothing else needed to be said.   
  
“So,” Dean broke the connection, looked in the direction of the motel room as he took his next drink. “He got drunk and told you he was jealous of the girl?”   
  
“Yeah. And that he thought he wasn’t ‘experienced’ enough for you.”   
  
Dean choked a little on that and Sam couldn’t help but grin, turned around to lean back against the Impala.   
  
“He said what?”   
  
“Apparantly, Zachariah knew how he felt about you and I think he was using to screw with Cas’ head a little. Told him he would have offered him to you before, to keep you happy before the apocalypse and all that, but that you wouldn’t have been interested because he didn’t have enough experience.”   
  
Dean threw the bottle, shattering it into a million pieces on the asphalt. “Son of a  _bitch_!”   
  
“Yeah. That’s pretty much what I told him.”   
  
Dean paced, rubbed the back of his neck. “So that’s why he hasn’t told me any of this?”   
  
“Well, that’s what he says. Personally, I think he’s also just afraid you wouldn’t be interested anyway. You should move fast though.”   
  
Dean’s eyebrows rose at that, demanding elaboration.   
  
“The other night when he was drunk, he wanted me to kiss him. For practice.” Watching Dean’s eyes widen like that, yeah it was  _totally_ worth sharing that part. “Course I told him no, but you never know who he might decide to ask next…Ellen…Jo…I mean, we’re on the way to Bobby’s. Last I heard, they were still there.”   
  
“That’s not funny, Sam! What if he…there’s all kinds of wackos out there, what if he goes out to a bar while we’re not with him or something? Shit…”   
  
Sam laughed, crossed his arms over his chest. “Then I think you better do something before he does. Don’t you?”   
  
‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’   
  
Dean shut the door behind him with one hand, jangling his keys for a minute in the other before tossing them over onto the TV stand. Cas was on the bed watching TV, up against the headboard with his knees curled up to his chest and looking more downright cute than any grown man had a right to. Not that Dean would’ve ever actually admitted it was cute, not anywhere but in the back of his own head where no one else could ever reach it and mock him about it. Especially Sam.   
  
He turned those electric blue eyes on Dean, and even from the door he was already mesmerized. “Hello, Dean. I thought you were working on the car all day?”   
  
Dean shrugged, crossed over to sit on the edge of the bed Cas was on. “Eh, couldn’t really get any farther today. Sam’s gonna pick up the other part I need while he’s out.” He tapped his thumb against his knee, impatient. He looked up at the TV screen, grinned when he recognized the movie. “You’re watching Back to the Future.”   
  
Cas nodded, his eyes bright and interested. “Sam said you liked it. I’ve been enjoying it.”   
  
“Well, good. Sounds like we’re finally gettin’ some culture in you.” What the hell, this was as good an opening as any. “Scoot over.” He shoved at his side, pulled his boots and socks off before moving to sit fully on the bed, propped up against the headboard next to him. He moved just close enough that their shoulders were touching at first, and when he shifted just a little closer he could feel the warmth of Cas’ hip against his. Not exactly anything unusual as far as they were concerned, but now that he knew he could, Dean had to struggle to keep from pressing closer.   
  
“So, what do you think Cas…you take me back in time, let me make a few well placed bets, we can keep hunting without all this credit card fraud. Sound good to you?”   
  
He turned enough to see the angel’s lips quirk up in a smile, felt his heart speed up just a little at the sight. He was too fucking gorgeous when he smiled, and he didn’t do it nearly enough. “It would still be cheating, Dean.”   
  
“You’re such a stickler for the rules.”   
  
“My Father’s rules, yes. There are others I can break just fine.”   
  
“Like the unspoken rule that when you start drinking, it’s not smart to go 0-60 in one night?”   
  
The smile vanished, his forehead furrowed with lines that Dean knew came from guilt. “That wasn’t…the wisest decision.”   
  
“Damn right, it wasn’t. Usually that’s a mistake you only make once though.” He smirked, remembering his own early experience with the hangover from hell. “So ah…what brought that on, Cas?”   
  
He felt Cas stiffen beside him. “I had never tried it. I wanted to have the experience.”   
  
“Uh huh. So instead of having a shot or two, you decide to get wasted.”   
  
“I didn’t-“  
  
“Nah, it’s cool, I was just wondering.”   
  
Silence, and Dean wasn’t exactly sure where he’d been heading with that anyway. He couldn’t have really expected Cas to tell him anything.   
  
“Are you…going out tonight?” There was a stiffness to the way he said it, and hearing it now Dean honestly couldn’t believe he’d never picked up on it before. Maybe Cas wasn’t the only one that hadn’t exactly been paying attention. If he’d known Cas had felt like this since he’d decided to stay, things would’ve gone a hell of a lot different. He’d been screwing around even more than usual the past few months, trying desperately to take his need out on someone else. Anyone else. It wasn’t the same and it wasn’t nearly as good as he was sure what he wanted would have been, but Castiel was a freakin’ angel of the Lord; he was beyond off limits. Or so he’d thought.   
  
Dean shook his head, turned his gaze back to the TV screen. “Thought I’d hang out with you for awhile. That ok?”   
  
He relaxed, and when Dean glanced over at him he was smiling brightly enough that it reached his eyes. “Of course.” He shuffled around in the pocket of his trench coat, pulled out a folded up menu. “Do you want pizza? Sam left this for us, he said he wouldn’t be back until tomorrow.”   
  
Dean laughed, smiling. “Did he? Well that’s considerate of him.” Cas cocked his head in confusion, but Dean spoke before he could ask. “Can I ask you something?”   
  
“Yes.”   
  
“Anna, did she tell the truth?” He let Cas’ eyes draw him in, watched the confusion fade into seriousness.   
  
“About what, Dean?”   
  
Dean shrugged. “In general, I guess. But specifically, she told me you guys can’t feel anything. You aren’t allowed. Is that true?” He heard the angel suck in a sharp breath, and reached over to pull the remote off the bed, turning off the TV before dropping it on the end table behind him and shifting just a tiny bit closer to Cas. “Is it? Cause see I think when Uriel said you  _liked_ me, he was meaning something more than I picked up on at the time.”   
  
“As I recall, I told you myself my superiors had begun to question my feelings for you.” His words were soft, steady. Before he’d known him as well as he did now, Dean wouldn’t have been able to hear the undercurrent of fear. Hesitance. He still thought he’d be rejected.   
  
“Well you coulda said it a little clearer, Cas, cause that was still too vague for me to put it together.” Slowly, he reached up, lay his palm against the angel’s cheek and felt his breath quicken against his wrist. Heat sparked under his skin from every point he touched him, spreading out to diffuse everywhere else. “You feel that?” He spoke in a hushed whisper, words catching just a little in his throat.   
  
Cas’ eyes fluttered closed, his breath a little more unsteady. “Yes.”   
  
“And are you allowed to do this?” He used the hand on his cheek to pull him in, his lips pressing firmly against Castiel’s. The lips beneath his were warm and pliant, and though it was short Cas gasped softly when he pulled back. “Am I allowed to do that, huh?”   
  
He felt him shudder, the current running through his entire frame. “ _Yes_. Dean-“  
  
Dean didn’t let him finish. As far as he was concerned, they’d done enough talking the past few months to make up for needing to talk about this anymore right now. At the moment, there were other things that needed doing, things he’d wanted to do since before he’d let himself admit he wanted them. He brought their lips together again, pleased to feel Cas really responding to his kiss, their lips moving together. He flicked his tongue out against Cas’ bottom lip, thumb stroking against his cheek when Cas moaned softly. He tried again, slid his tongue wet and insistent against his angel’s lips. That time they opened for him, and he felt Cas clutch desperately at the hem of his shirt.   
  
He explored his mouth slowly, stroking gently across his tongue and making a soft, warm noise of approval when Cas stroked back against him. He tasted like nothing Dean could ever really describe, cinnamon and other things he never could’ve named. He tasted incredible, and Dean knew he could lose himself in this, easy. He moved them without breaking the kiss, easing them both down in the bed until he could rest half on top of him, his hand sliding down to rub at Cas’ neck. The hand Cas had the hem of his shirt loosen its grip, slid up to ghost across his stomach and Dean’s hips gave a startled jerk, pressing his rapidly growing erection into Castiel’s thigh.   
  
He pulled away, trailed damp kisses along the angel’s jaw. His hand had stilled against Dean’s stomach and Dean nuzzled against his ear, tugged on gently on the earlobe with his teeth. “Don’t stop, Cas, c’mon. Feels so good.”   
  
A soft noise escaped him, his palm flattening against Dean’s skin before his hand slid up higher, pushing his shirt up enough to bring his touch up over his ribs, in to his chest to brush his thumb across a nipple. Dean bit down on his neck, groaning, his hips rocking forward. There was more hesitant curiosity in his touch than practiced skill, that was obvious, but it didn’t matter. This was  _Cas_ , and that fact alone was more of a turn on than anything else could’ve ever been. Not to mention, he’d been waiting for this for so long. He was on fire, already rock hard and wishing he could pin his angel down and fuck him senseless, listen to him moan loud enough to piss off the people in the next room. Part of him wanted that, but it was a good thing that a larger part of him didn’t. They could do that, later. Right now…this was different. He had to take it at least a little slow. Controlled chaos, at least.   
  
Still, that didn’t mean he couldn’t be a little impatient with certain things. He slid a hand down, tugged impatiently at Cas’ tie before capturing his lips in another searing kiss. “This. All of this, off. Please.” And just like that, they were both naked. He blinked, a little shocked. “I…ok. Ok.” He’d expected him to shirtless, sure, but not... _wow. oh fuck…_ He could feel bare warm skin against his cock now, and it wasn’t helping.   
  
“You said-“  
  
“Shh, it’s perfect. C’mere.” He curled a hand around the back of his neck to hold him securely close, moved to straddle his hips. They both moaned at the first feel of their erections sliding against each other, and Dean squeezed his hip hard when he felt Cas’ twitch and jerk against him. He was new at this, completely, and he wasn’t going to last long.   
  
Dean stroked his fingers through his thick hair, tugged on enough to put his head at just the right angle for a slow, deep kiss. He matched the movement of his hips to the pace, bringing it to a slow, steady grind. Cas was all but shaking underneath him, an almost constant stream of soft mewling sounds slipping from his throat. It was good, incredible. Fuck, it was a thousand times  _beyond_  incredible but Dean couldn’t help wanting just a little more. When they broke apart he dipped his head to Cas’ ear, his tongue tracing the shape before he spoke. “I don’t wanna go too fast. Don’t wanna push you.”   
  
He felt Cas shake his head, heard a soft whine as Dean mouthed at the skin over his pulse. “No. No,  _please_ …”  
  
“Cas, I wanna be inside you.” He stroked his hip, felt his heart jolt at the way Cas’ breath hitched when he said it. “Tell me that’s ok. I promise, we’ll take it slow.”   
  
“Yes.  _Yes_.”   
  
Dean nodded, pulled back and tried to clear his head at least a little bit. Lube. If they were gonna do this, he needed lube. Of course, even sitting back it was to concentrate on anything with Cas beneath him like that, naked and panting and sweaty, his arousal flush against his belly, his hips thrusting eagerly against Dean in an erratic pattern that seemed hungry beyond all conscious control. Dean groaned, wrapped his hand around his cock and squeezed hard to keep from coming at the damn image alone.  _Lube. C’mon, Dean, think._ He got up reluctantly, leaning over to kiss Cas when he cried out softly at the loss. “Just a sec.” He got to the bathroom as quick as he could, wincing at the discomfort of walking with a hard on. There was lotion in the basket on the counter and he grabbed it, unscrewing the top and dropping it to the floor on his way over to the bed.   
  
He slid between his legs, bending over for a warm, wet kiss before got started. He tapped the bottle against his hand, slicked up two fingers but only started with one. He pushed in slowly, pausing to kiss the inside of his thigh when his muscles clenched up reflexively against the intrusion. Cas relaxed and he slipped in further, wriggled his finger around until he crooked it at just the right angle. He cried out, his hips bucking hard against Dean’s hand, legs falling open wider, wanton.   
  
When he looked at Dean after the initial burst of pleasure of had passed his eyes were filled with awe, pupils blown wide with lust. “Do that again.”   
  
Dean chuckled softly, reached over to pull one of the hands that grasped at the bedsheet into his own free one. “Oh I’m planning on it.”   
  
He slid a second finger in, crooked them both at just the right spot to rub the pads of his fingers over sensitive nerves. He moaned Dean’s name, squeezed his hand convulsively. It was mesmerizing, watching him come undone like this. Sometime in the future(he could hardly resist a crazy grin at the thought, the realization that in the future he’d be doing a  _lot_  more of this), he’d take his time, do this until he could watch Cas jerk and spill across his own chest, muscles tightening hard around Dean’s fingers. Some other time. For now, he was too desperate. He added just a little more lotion to his hand to slick it up really good, slid three fingers in and worked them until Cas was rocking with the motion. He pulled his hand back then, wiped his fingers on the sheets and slid an arm behind the angel’s back, the other hand falling to grip his hip.   
  
He felt the press of wet heat against his tip, groaned and turned his head to press a kiss to Cas’ temple. “This is gonna hurt, Cas. I’m sorry. I’ll go slow, ok?”   
  
“It’s alright, Dean. I want this. I  _want_  this,  _please_.”   
  
He pushed in slow, his muscles quivering a little with the effort.  _Shit_ , he was tight. “ _Fuck_ , Cas…” Cas eyes were closed, a little constricted with pain and Dean bit his tongue, forced himself to stop and wait. He took a few labored breaths to calm the raging desire, leaned in for a tender kiss. “You ok?”   
  
He responded by rolling his hips up just a little, moaning softly as Dean slipped further inside. He was almost there, and another push was all it took to connect them fully. Cas pulled him down for a kiss then, his tongue eager and hungry as it thrust into Dean’s mouth. Dean moaned low in his throat, began to rock their hips together. This first time, he’d keep it careful, no sharp movements. No matter how much he wanted to thrust into him, he wouldn’t hurt him. Not ever.   
  
They had both been close already, Cas in particular, and it wasn’t long at all before he was whimpering into their kiss again, his hands clutching desperately at Dean’s back. Dean reached between them, wrapped his hand around Cas’ cock just in time for him to come hard, his body arching as he gasped in pleasure. As he started to come down Dean shifted his grip, both arms sliding to rest underneath this back, curling around his shoulders to hold him close to his chest as he rocked into him. Cas stroked his shoulders, ran his fingers through his hair. He was close, so fucking close, and when Cas lay his palm almost reverently against Dean’s cheek he came, hips snapping just a little harder, Cas’ name falling from his lips.   
  
He pulled out once he could actually think straight, rolled over to reach over the edge of the bed for a discarded shirt or something to wipe Cas off with but there was nothing there, and for a minute he wasn’t sure why until he remember Cas had zapped their clothes off to Timbuktu or something. He flopped his other arm over, smacked Cas on the shoulder gently. “Hey. Shirt.”   
  
It was as coherent as he got, but luckily Cas listened well. His t-shirt was suddenly in his hands, and he rolled over and used it to clean up a little before tossing it over his shoulder and onto the floor. Cas was still laying on his back, his eyes half closed and looking so damn well fucked that Dean couldn’t help but be a little pleased with himself. He smirked, ran a hand down the angel’s chest.   
  
“You’re tellin’ me you’re allowed to do  _that_? ”   
  
Cas’ lips quirked up just a little, his eyes staying half shut. “Apparantly. And…” His eyes opened slow, a brilliant, hopeful sky blue. “I would like to keep doing it. With you. For as long as you’ll have me.”   
  
Dean cleared his throat, nodded as he looked over at the window. “Well, good. Cause I was planning on you stickin’ around. For good, or something. However long you wanted to stay.” It was hard to say, and in the split second Cas didn’t answer he’d never felt more vulnerable.   
  
But it didn’t last. He felt a familiar warm hand against his cheek, stroking, soothing. “I am yours.”   
  
 _I am yours._  
  
Second to taking care of Sammy, this was the greatest responsibility he could’ve ever gotten. Not that it felt like a burden. Not at all. He leaned in, kissed Cas’ forehead before ruffling his hair and settling down into the bed, Cas curling around him. They had plenty of time to sleep, wake up and order some pizza, and do this all over again. And again. And hopefully, by the time Sam got back he’d just find them passed out. Hopefully. 


End file.
